Prophet's Path
by kncrowder88
Summary: During the final days of the Dominion War, Colonel Kira reflects on a saying of the Vedeks.


A/N: I wrote this a good year, two years ago, and forgot about it. Recently got it edited and decided to share. I hope everyone enjoys! Thank you for reading, let me know what you think!

The Vedeks say the prophets speak in great riddles and in clear terms. How do a people describe their own gods in such a way? A riddle itself. They speak in riddles yet clearly. It doesn't even make sense. If everything is clear yet a riddle then how is it clear. I was the child who would become furious at that and stomp my feet, insisting that they must explain this to me. In return, I'd get a simple smile and a simple: _One day, my child, you will understand_.

My mother used to tell me that on the day of my birth I had to be the most stubborn Bajoran child in existence. Bajoran births are supposed to be easy, Nerys … that's always how the story would start. She'd be brushing my hair, pulling me from whatever trouble I was about to get into, or just cuddled up with me on our cot in the refugee camp and start with such a simple line. Then go on about how it started out exactly how it was supposed to, all the proper little warnings one's body gives when one is about to have a child. I remember always listening in fascination despite knowing what's coming. How my father would be there doing his part with all the others. How everyone started to grow worried as despite everything being just right I refused to come. It wasn't painful but I refused to emerge.

 _Until Kora came, she was such a kindly Cardassian who ran the records unit for our area._

From that point I always felt like this was strange. How someone would come to record details of the population. Take intricate little details, down to how fit they were from the moment they were born. I remember the first time I was told, well the first time I can recall the story, how I sat in awe. Listening as she spoke of how this Kora, this Cardassian woman was the first individual ever to hold me. How I seemed to refuse for all the world to come out until she arrived and she had stepped up to see what may be the problem.

I was just a newborn babe and had already met my first Cardassian.

 **The prophets speak in riddles and yet speak clearly.**

Such a simple phrase and yet so hard to grasp. Perhaps, that is why they say it. I spent my youth in a refugee camp surrounded by fellow Bajorans constantly irritating the adults yet also constantly irritating the Cardassians, except Kora. Kora always came with treats for the kids. When we left the camp, I still found myself running into Cardassians. In the village, always causing trouble, always finding ways to irritate them. Up until I went into the resistance and then I was fighting them. And once Bajor was free, once I thought that finally, finally, I wouldn't see another one … I was wrong.

Garak was on the station in the tailor shop constantly.

Dukat seemed to always find a way to appear, even if by subspace.

There was Aamin Marritza. Tekeny Ghemor.

And then Ziyal, sweet Ziyal with her half Cardassian, half Bajoran features.

Of course I ended up on that Cardassian freighter surrounded by Cardassians. Then it was on a bird-of-prey. Then Ziyal was also on the station.

Then the Cardassians were back with the Dominion. Dukat. Damar. Ziyal. So many Cardassians. My entire life. And even when they were gone, when Ziyal was killed, there was still Garak. And Dukat even reappeared. And now … here I am sitting in a basement with Garak and Damar. All this time, all this time I've been fighting my own path because I've refused to listen. Refused so much to just stop and listen to what the prophets were telling me. It's still unclear, but I think I can understand it better now. I'm not to be free of Cardassia. Not to be away from them.

From the moment of my birth I had placed myself into the hands of a Cardassian, and it seemed that is what I had been doing, in some way, my entire life. Constantly placing myself in the hands of Cardassians, and they in mine. Give and take. Push and pull. A path hard to walk, hard to accept. Hard to truly see but clearly what is mine. Would things have been easier if I had noticed earlier? Would things have been avoided? This war? Ziyal's death? All of this? Possibly. Possibly not. What matters is I know now and we have a planet to bring out of Dominion hands. Besides, prophets can learn to be a little clearer next time.


End file.
